


Time To Play

by Imoshen



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Sex, Bottom!Lucifer, M/M, Twincest, bottom!nick, mentioned knife-play, murder as a turn-on, top!Lucifer, top!Nick
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-17
Updated: 2018-12-17
Packaged: 2019-09-21 12:12:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17043512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Imoshen/pseuds/Imoshen
Summary: Lucifer and Nicholas Ubrimowitz are murderers. They won't argue the point, because it's true. But they have a special sort of victim: those who should be in prison, but aren't.





	Time To Play

**Author's Note:**

> inspired by something @scoobinatural (formerly @carvcredlund) said a couple of days ago: "Give me a lucifer & nick murder duo that just kills bad people"
> 
> I added the smut because well, Nick and Lucifer. Couldn't resist.

The door to the hotel room has barely slammed shut before Nick is thrown against the wall next to it, his twin pressed to his front. Lucifer’s mouth is on his with the next heartbeat, hot and demanding, and Nick moans and fists his hands in the fabric of the grey jacket his brother hasn’t bothered to get out of yet.

Lucifer pushes his leg between Nick’s and gives him something to rut against, and Nick moans gratefully and manages to arrange his weight so he can do the same for his twin. Lucifer stifles his moan against the skin of Nick’s neck, licks and nips his way up to Nick’s ear.

“You’re so fucking hot with a knife in your hand,” he murmurs, and Nick shivers at the rough tone of voice. “I could watch you all day, _fuck,_ Nicky, watching you got me so damn hard.”

Nick pants for breath, pulls on his twin’s clothes without coordination or direction, just wants to get them _off_ , get at naked skin. Lucifer doesn’t help, both of his hands on Nick’s hips to help keep him balanced.

“Get that damn jacket off, Luci,” he demands, pulls on the fabric again. “Fuck, I need to feel you, c’mon…”

Lucifer bites down on the soft skin beneath Nick’s jaw, making him groan. “How much prep do you need, baby?”

“I’m good,” Nick promises, whimpers as Lucifer bites down again a little lower. “How do you want me?”

In response, Lucifer manhandles him until he’s face-first to the wall, then pulls his hips back and waits until Nick has found his balance again. Strong hands glide down his chest, open his belt and jeans. One hand slides in and wraps itself around Nick’s cock, and Nick moans and jerks into the touch. “Yes!”

“So responsive,” Lucifer praises him, pressed tight to his back so Nick can feel the hard length against his ass, “my perfect love.” He strokes him a few times, then removes his hand and steps back a little. Nick whines at the loss of contact.

“Pull down your pants, baby,” Lucifer tells him, the clink of his belt buckle just audible beneath his voice, “let me see you.”

Nick removes one hand from the wall to wrangle his pants over his hips and lets them fall down to his ankles. They thump down a little heavily because he’s still carrying his knife sheaths on his belt, but right now, he doesn’t give a fuck.

Lucifer steps close again, until Nick can feel his twin’s jeans brush the backs of his thighs, his ass. Warm hands grasp his cheeks and pull him open, and then Lucifer groans.

“You’ve been wearing a fucking plug the entire time? God, baby, you’re perfect for me.”

“Knew we were going to end up like this,” Nick tells him, gasps when Lucifer slowly pulls the toy free, “wanted to be ready… fuck, Luci, please, need you inside me.”

“Just a second, baby,” Lucifer soothes him, and then Nick groans as Lucifer slowly presses into him.

They stand like that for a long moment until Nick starts to squirm, rocks back against his twin. “C’mon, baby, fuck me.”

Lucifer growls where he’s buried his face against Nick’s throat. He grasps Nick’s hips, pulls out slowly accompanied by Nick’s low moan, and then sets a hard, fast rhythm that has Nick gasping and shouting praise and moaning within a handful of thrusts.

“Taking me so well,” Lucifer pants in his ear, his nails digging into the skin of Nick’s hips, “feel so good around my dick, baby, _fuck_ , so hot and slick for me.”

Nick clings to the wall, barely avoids hitting his head each time Lucifer thrusts into him. He’s so hard, and needs a hand on his cock so badly, but he can’t let go from where he’s pressed both forearms palm down against the wall.

“Luci, please,” he finally begs, groans when Lucifer’s cock hits his prostate again, “please, baby, need your hand, need to come, _fuck_ please…”

Lucifer gives him what he begged for, wraps one hand around his cock and lets the momentum of his hips provide the friction Nick needs. “Want to come, baby?”

“Yes, please, please Luci,” Nick’s nails are scratching at the wallpaper now, he’s so close. Lucifer licks at his neck again, then leans in to murmur into his ear.

“Come.”

Nick screams. There’s no other word for the sound he makes, his body spasming with his release. He clamps down hard on Lucifer’s cock in his hole and hears his brother curse behind him before hot wetness fills him.

They stay like that, leaning against the wall and panting, until Lucifer stirs. He carefully pulls back and out of Nick, who hisses at the loss.

“Did I hurt you, my love?” Lucifer’s voice is gentle now as he runs careful fingertips along the bitemarks on Nick’s throat.

“Nah,” Nick soothes him, still shivering, “I’m fine, baby.”

“Let’s get you into bed,” Lucifer tells him, and between them, they manage to reach the bed without incident. Clothes are strewn across the floor, weapons go beneath pillows, and then Lucifer disappears into the bathroom for a second and returns with bottled water from the minibar and a warm, wet washcloth he uses to gently clean his twin up.

“Come to bed,” Nick tells him, holds up the covers in invitation, “I want to cuddle.”

Lucifer chuckles, aims the washcloth in the general direction of the bathroom and complies. He wraps himself around Nick, nuzzles into his neck and sighs happily. “I love you, baby,” he murmurs, gently kisses the skin under his mouth. “My perfect lover.”

“Love you, too,” Nick murmurs back, tightens his hold on Lucifer’s arm. “I’d be nothing without you.”

“Sleep,” Lucifer murmurs, and Nick hums agreement.

They drift off, safe in each other’s arms.

 

This is the Ubrimowitz twins’ life: they love, they fuck, and they kill.

Zachariah Smithson, accused of rape, Chicago, is followed by Dick Roman, accused of trafficking people, Washington, is followed by Alistair Picasso, kidnapping and murder, San Francisco. They are just the newest entries in a list of names, and the twins enjoy the thrill of the hunt, the adrenaline the kill brings.

The sex after a kill is spectacular every time, be it Nick on his knees, a vibrator up his ass and the remote in Lucifer’s hand while he sucks his brother off or Lucifer, spread out and tied down and stuffed full with a toy on their bed, trembling as Nick runs the dull edge of a blade over his skin, flicking to the sharp edge every now and then.

Sometimes, they just find the nearest safe location and fuck each other’s brains out.

Some people call them murderers, some call them psychopaths, and the twins are the first to admit they aren’t wrong.

But the truth is, Nick and Lucifer have never taken an innocent life. They kill those who escape the legal system because they have money, or power, or simply the luck of being a white male.

It’s an open secret that these murders will never be solved. There are no clients, so to speak, no payment for a hit executed – but there is a database no one ever mentions, but everyone in law enforcement knows, hidden in plain sight, and that database gets updated regularly when another guilty person slips through the cracks.

Lucifer and Nick Ubrimowitz return to running their family after each kill, the cold-eyed mob boss and his equally cold-eyed shadow, known and feared for their ruthlessness in the world of organized crime.

Until the next entry pops up in the database, and Nick pushes a single sheet of paper over the dining table at breakfast, and Lucifer smiles at him, slow and sexy.

“Time to play.”


End file.
